


Come Back To Me

by PrettyKitty93



Series: Sherlock's Return [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anger, Angst, Boys Kissing, Couch Cuddles, Deception, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Loss, M/M, Pain, Sherlock's return, Some Humor, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyKitty93/pseuds/PrettyKitty93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>An AU of Sherlock's return and my original work for it but it's part of this series because they both have him returning in two different ways with different outcomes xxxx</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Missing You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackCat46](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCat46/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Almost Like You Never Left](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028631) by [PrettyKitty93](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyKitty93/pseuds/PrettyKitty93). 



> An AU of Sherlock's return and my original work for it but it's part of this series because they both have him returning in two different ways with different outcomes xxxx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since Sherlock's death, John has stopped seeing his therapist and Mycroft wants to ask him why.  
> John isn't pleased about his nagging and after an argument, he storms out, vowing never to speak to the man again.  
> That night the doctor finds comfort in someone less judging of him and for once, he's grateful for the intrusion into his life.  
> But what happens when he suddenly realises that he has feelings for his dead friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the romantic version of Sherlock's return, where he and John get together and live happily ever after ;) xxxxx

"How are you, John?" The voice was soft and full of concern.

And despite the irregularity of it, John was actually relieved and he found himself relax dramatically. This, however, did not prevent his next comment. 

"You sound like my therapist."

"Oh, she asked when you were going to see her again. Apparently, you've missed your last three sessions."

"There's no _apparently_ about it and why would she contact you?"

"I told her to. I know how much Sherlock's death is affecting you."

John scoffed, "And what about you?"

"He's my brother but I like to think that he _did_ bring this on himself."

"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?!" John exclaimed, leaping out of his seat in rage.

"John, please, you're making a scene." Mycroft replied calmly, still sipping his whiskey gracefully.

"I don't care! He's your brother!" The doctor continued to yell.

" _Was_." Mycroft stated calmly.

"What?"

" _Was_ my brother. He's dead, John. Accept it."

And with that, Mycroft stood from his seat and left the room.

John stood there, truly over-whelmed at Mycroft. He knew the man to be a masochist, but towards his own brother?

x..x

Mycroft watched as John fled the building; not even taking a second to so much as glare at Mycroft before he pulled out his mobile.

_He cares very greatly for you._

_MH_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

 

_I know. It's better this way, Mycroft._

_SH_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

 

_You almost sound as though you care, little brother._

_MH_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

 

_Of course not. I'm a psychopath, incapable of feelings._

_SH_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

 

_Whatever you say, Sherlock._

_MH_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

 

There was no response from this last message and they both knew that Mycroft was right. In fact, his feelings towards his friend were why he had _died_. Despite the lack of a reply, Mycroft smiled; he loved it when he was right.

x..x

Sherlock sighed; he'd been doing that a lot lately. He was bored and lonely. He had never cared for company before but after meeting John, he had enjoyed it. This puzzled him immensely and to make matters worse, the only person he could really talk to was Mycroft. Molly had texted him many times but only to inform him of John's behaviour. Several times he had replied to her but he had stopped in case she accidentally let the truth spill.

x..x 

_Accept it._

The words echoed in John's head as he stormed down the street.

_"He's dead. Accept it."_

How could Mycroft be so cruel? This was his little brother. They disagreed and Sherlock would push Mycroft's buttons but they were brothers.

Before John knew it, he was back at 221B Baker Street. He'd refused to leave, using the excuse that he wanted to keep Mrs Hudson company and to stop some other _psychopath_ from moving in. They both knew it was a lie and the doctor knew that even Mrs Hudson didn't buy it.

John was waiting.

He'd been waiting for four months now.

He refused to believe he was dead, even with a gravestone he wouldn't accept it. So he waited and waited. He barely slept, barely ate, barely did anything. Just sat there while Mrs Hudson talked. She knew she was just talking to herself but she hoped the constant noise brought the man some sort of comfort.

 x.x 

It was 8pm and Molly Hooper was stood outside of 221B Baker Street as she pulled out the key Mrs Hudson had given to her. She turned the key in the lock, opened the door and silently made her way up the stairs. She saw him straight away and it was then that she realised they'd shared a flat for too long. She recognised _that_ look; the look on John's face. It was Sherlock's look; the one he wore when John wasn't watching him.

The doctor was really sad and it broke Molly’s heart to see it because he'd been lots of things over Sherlock's death; angry, betrayed, hateful, stupid, drunk, and even destructive, but in all that time, Molly had never seen John sad before.

She sat next to him and noted that he didn't even flinch.

"You look like Sherlock."

"Excuse me?"

"Sherlock always had this look when he thought you weren't looking. He was sad, almost frightened. You're doing it now."

"Oh, I'm doing the look?"

Molly nodded sadly.

"Why didn’t you do this before now?"

"Molly, I always do this. When I'm with you, I hide it. I don't like seeing you so sad about it."

"John, how have I never noticed before?"

"I just …"

"Not about your feelings over Sherlock's death, John. I mean, how did I not notice _you_ before?"

"Because the dashing hero always saves the day, while the sidekick sits there and looks pretty."

John looked at Molly and smiled a little. She placed a hand on his cheek in an attempt at comfort but it was clear she wasn't good at this. John just placed a hand on her knee in response. 

Molly had been so fascinated with Sherlock that she had greatly over looked the man who had been nothing but kind and sweet to her. Every time the detective would come out with some cruel remark, John had always jumped to defend her.

In fact, he was the one who had even made Sherlock apologise.

The pathologist was suddenly over-whelmed with emotions; love for Sherlock and now seemingly a crush on John.

She leaned in and kissed him softly. John was taken aback but didn't want to push the young woman away; not when they needed each other.

Molly pressed a little harder and John had to pull away. She looked slightly offended and practically curled up in the corner of the couch.

"It's not that I don't like you, Molly. I mean, you're beautiful and sweet but ... there's someone else."

"You've got a girlfriend? Sorry, none of my business."

"Not exactly. And don't say that, I trust you."

"I'm gonna go."

"You can stay if you want." John offered, smiling shyly.

"Um, okay."

"So, would you like a drink?" John asked softly, standing up from the couch.

"Please." The young woman smiled awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of her cardigan.

"Okay."

x..x

Sometime later John was in bed with Molly curled up in his arms. He didn't want to hurt her but they both needed comfort and closeness right now. She sighed softly and by the rate of her pulse and the shallowness of her breathing, he concluded the young woman was finally asleep.

John saw that it was 4am on his alarm clock and realised that the chances of him going to sleep now were slim.

Molly's phone beeped and John chose to ignore it to curl up and try to sleep. There was another beep, then another and another. The doctor decided to attempt to put Molly's phone on silent to prevent more disturbances, when he saw it; the number. That was impossible. But who else ended their texts with _SH_?

John froze as he suddenly realised what he was doing; betraying Molly's trust. He was snooping through her messages while she slept in his arms. While she trusted and cared for him.

"John?" The voice was soft and quiet, mixed with sleepiness but it wasn't angry or upset, it was ... worried.

"Molly I'm sorry. I was putting it on silent. You got a text so I decided to put it on silent so it didn't disturb us."

Molly flinched when he said _us_ and John was suddenly aware of how that must have sounded, especially given the situation.

"I'm sorry." He tried again, handing her the mobile back.

"No, I'm sorry. I betrayed your trust by not telling you. But I swore to Sherlock I wouldn't, to keep you safe."

"He doesn't realise how amazing you are. He takes advantage a lot." John smiled and kissed her softly, making her heart flutter a little.

"He doesn't, John. I help him willingly." Molly tried to reassure him, cuddling into his chest.

"He knows." She added, after a beat of silence.

"Excuse me?"

"I told Sherlock ... here let me show you."

She unlocked the phone and scrolled through the texts. She turned the screen to show him. 

_You're lucky, Sherlock. He really loves you. I mean, really loves you. Come home soon. MH xx_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

 

"Molly, I don't ..." He saw her smile and gave up. "Was this about the kiss?"

"The kiss made it so but it was everything."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You can't help it. But don't count yourself out, John. He really thinks highly of you. He asked me to look after you."

"That's nice. I don't want him hurting you, Molly. I may love him but I care about you and I can’t let him hurt you."

"John ..."

"You're a one in a million, Molly. Loyal, caring, determined and loving. I won't let anyone change that."

"Thank you, John."

He smiled in response.

"How about we talk about this later. For now, let's try and sleep."


	2. The Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After John's discovery, he decides to ring Sherlock to ask him what the hell is going on.  
> They have an emotional talk but Sherlock still refuses to come back.  
> But will Sherlock return and risk facing an angry ex-army doctor?

_"Molly, I told you not to call me. What is it?"_

"Sherlock?"

_"John?"_

"Planning on coming back to Baker Street?"

_"You're still there?"_

"Of course I am. Answer my question, Sherlock."

_"I can't, John. It's too dangerous being around me."_

"Sherlock, I've been shot at, nearly blown up, arrested and, _been taken hostage_." John emphasised the last part with a slight grin.

Sherlock chuckled uncharacteristically and it gave John a warm feeling in his chest.

"Please, Sherlock. Molly obviously told you about my feelings. It's okay if you don't feel the same. I never thought I would. But I guess it makes sense now why none of my relationships ever worked out, I guess."

_"John, you were too good. They never really understood you."_

"Is that you're way of saying that I have a lot higher intellect than you'd previously wanted to admit?"

_"I never said that. I just said that they didn't understand you."_

"And why's that?"

"Don't make me say it."

John smiled softly. He had to admit he’d missed Sherlock's arrogance a little. He missed seeing his face too; those damn cheekbones and well sculptured face. But it _had_ seemed like an eternity and he was sure seeing Sherlock again would kill him.

_"John?"_

"Yes, Sherlock."

_"Have you missed me?"_

John struggled for a reply.

_Yes, I miss you so much. Your bloody cheekbones and your tall, skinny frame and ... and .... just everything._

"Yeah, I mean I've not been working many cases so I've been getting bored." John decided to say, not wanting to sound desperate.

 _"Oh."_ Sherlock's reply was simple but laced with disappointment.

"Have you ... missed _me_?" The doctor asked almost in a whisper, rubbing the back of his neck.

_"Well, I get bored too. You're the only one who puts up with me."_

"Is that a yes?" John asked awkwardly.

_"Is it a yes from you?"_

They were both silent for a few minutes when Molly walked into the living room finally and motioned for John to say something.

"Would you like to speak to Molly?"

Molly sighed and left for the kitchen.

_"John, listen ..."_

"Yes."

_"What?"_

"Yes, I miss you." John whispered the last part, as though he feared the consequences.

_"So do I."_

"Excuse me?" John nearly choked, scared to even hope.

_"I feel the same way, John."_

"You do?" The older man spluttered, shakily seating down

 _"Yes."_ Sherlock practically whispered.

"... Okay."

_"I've got to go."_

"Oh."

_"Sorry."_

"It’s okay, I'm used to not speaking to you. Goodbye, Sherlock." John said bitterly, immediately feeling a pang of guilt.

 _"... Goodbye, John."_ Sherlock’s words echoing the last thing he ever said to the older man/

John hung up and regretted ending the call with such a spiteful comment. He couldn't help but think that that call might have been what would bring Sherlock home, and John had just shattered that option.

"What happened?" Molly's voice was low and worried as she re-entered the living room.

"I blew it. I nearly had him and then I ruined it because I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me." John's voice was a whisper and he felt tears run down his cheek as he held back a sob.

"He'll come home, John. He'll understand why you said what you did." The young woman replied, wrapping the doctor up in her arms and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Molly."

She nodded slightly, squeezing John tighter.

x..x

"221B Baker Street. Hurry."

"I'm a taxi driver, pal, not a race car driver."

"I didn't ask for sarcasm, _pal_."

"Bloody hell."

The rest of the ride was quiet, the driver not daring to say anything else for fear of pissing off his seemingly already angry passenger.

"221B Baker Street."

"Yeah, thanks." Sherlock shoved a twenty into the driver's hand and climbed out of the cab. "Keep the change."

"Yeah, cheers." The cabbie grumbled, pulling away from the kerb and speeding up slightly.

The walk up the stairs felt like a climb up the highest mountain. But when Sherlock walked into the living room, he was greeted with a sight of pure beauty; Doctor John Watson was lying on the couch, sleeping peacefully and looking as innocent as a young child.

Sherlock froze on the spot, taking in this rare and wonderful sight.

"First time he's slept so peacefully since you ran away."

Molly's voice made the detective jump slightly causing Molly to wonder what had caused such a reaction.

"Is he okay?" Sherlock asked, his eyes never moving from John's sleeping form.

"As good as he could be." She replied, her voice remaining calm and soft.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm going to go home. Please be here when he wakes, Sherlock."

"Thank you, Molly." Sherlock replied, looking over at the young woman.

"Goodbye, Sherlock." She replied, pecking his cheek softly.

"Goodbye, Molly."

Sherlock listened as the front door clicked closed gently and sat down on the floor in front of the couch.

He gently pushed away strands of hair away from John's eyes, keeping the view clear for when his eyes opened.

The older man stirred slightly and rolled onto his side as Sherlock's hand trailed across his forehead gently causing the younger man to whine softly. John seemed to react to the touch; moving into it even in his sleep, as though this is what he had craved for so long.

Sherlock ran a finger down the older man’s cheek, watching him smile and sigh contently. The next sigh was soft and in the form of Sherlock's name; Sherlock's breath catching in his throat and causing him to almost pull his hand away.

Before he even registered what he was doing, he kissed John softly on the forehead and the doctor's eyes fluttered open; breath catching at the closeness of Sherlock. 

Sherlock had two choices; freeze where he was and wait for John to make a move or, pull away as fast as he could and disappear again.

John exhaled deeply as he looked up at Sherlock's face; his beautiful cheekbones clearly defined, before he followed the shape of Sherlock's figure; eyes stopping at his neck.

The doctor didn't even think; he just placed the softest of kisses to Sherlock's neck, hearing the detective sigh loudly; clearly trying to fight it. Sherlock gave in and looked down at John, their eyes locking.

John broke the silence, "You came home then?"

"How could I not?" Sherlock replied, moving away slightly.

"Where's Molly?" John asked, his eyes searching for her now that his eyeline wasn't obscured by Sherlock.

"She went home because I was here."

"Okay." He replied, eyes falling back on the detective.

Sherlock went back to softly stroking the older man's hair as John shuffled forward and pulled gently on the detective's coat.

"John, what are you ..."

"This couch is surprisingly roomie." John shrugged, quickly nuzzling Sherlock’s nose with his own.

Sherlock smiled softly and carefully climbed over John, waiting for him to roll over before getting comfy.

John tangled his legs with Sherlock, snuggling into his chest and sighing deeply.

"Tired?" Sherlock whispered into the older man’s hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo.

"Mmm." John mumbled, snuggling closer to the detective.

"John, you should sleep in bed then."

"No." John almost snapped, gripping him tightly.

"John." Sherlock tried a softer approach, nuzzling the doctor’s nose to gently kiss his lips/

"No." John replied again simply, leaning back in for another kiss.

Sherlock smiled sweetly, "Okay, I'll just wait until you're asleep then I'll carry you to bed."

"Sherlock, I was in the army. I was a doctor and a soldier, I did have combat training." John replied, looking up at Sherlock seriously.

"Meaning?" Sherlock quirked an eyebrow.

"I can take you out even in my sleep."

"Okay then." Sherlock shrugged, not really knowing what else to say without making the situation awkward.

"Not like you not to argue further."

"With you, I've learnt to just leave it."

John scoffed, "That's a lie."

"Mmm."

Sherlock was distracted, and John knew it.

"Right, I'm going to bed." He stood and headed for the door.

"What?" Sherlock asked, looking at John for the first time in five minutes.

"There's something going on, Sherlock and clearly, I'm not important enough for you to tell." John replied, turning around to leave.

"John, that's not true." Sherlock replied, jumping off the couch and grabbing his wrist.

Beneath his fingertips, he felt John's pulse speed up, making his own raise a little.

The doctor froze and tried to breathe; the pounding in his chest and Sherlock's touch not make it any easier.

Sherlock pulled gently on his wrist, turning him round and pulling him towards him a few steps.

"Sherlock."

"I'm sorry, for the way I've treated you, the way I've always treated you."

Sherlock moved his fingers down to John's hand, toying at his fingers. Hands of a soldier, healing hands but something else.

Mycroft was right, John's hands were steady. And Sherlock knew why, it was because he was back home.

John loved the danger, the thrill of the chase. Sherlock had finally found someone who would have him for everything he was. Even as a sociopath with a bitchy attitude.

The doctor gripped the detective's fingers gently, stepping closer and entwining their fingers while he wondered what was going on in Sherlock's mad mind.

"This is difficult for me to say, as you probably know ..." Sherlock struggled with the words, he'd never said them before and he didn't want to mess this up.

"Sherlock, say it in your own time. I won't leave you if you don't say it right now." John squeezed his hand reassuringly and smiled.

Sherlock nodded in reply and pulled John to him, just holding him in comfortable silence.

"Back on the couch?" John whispered in Sherlock's shoulder.

"If you want to." Sherlock replied, pulling away from him slightly.

John nodded and moved towards the couch, followed by Sherlock; who was still holding his hand.

"What if you fall asleep?" Sherlock asked, stroking John's hair.

"Do what most ..." He thought for a second for an appropriate word. "Do what most _partners_ do and carry me." he grinned a little, causing Sherlock to smirk in response.

"Let's just watch tv for now." Sherlock replied, pulling the doctor into his arms tightly.

"Not worried about what I said earlier?"

"I would have done it anyway." Sherlock smiled, pressing the ON button on the remote and getting comfy.


	3. Making A Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the boys are taking the next step in their relationship.  
> But is it easy to move on from the past?

Sherlock was getting bored of the tv garbage that was now on and when he looked at the clock, it showed a little after 2am. Sherlock yawned and realised that after been awake for nearly twenty-two hours straight, he was actually tired.

"John." The detective whispered, gently nudging the doctor who was asleep in his arms.

Sherlock reluctantly pulled away from John, earning a slight groan from the doctor.

"Bed time, Doctor Watson." He smiled to himself.

He sat up slowly; careful not to disturb John, climbed off the couch and gently placed a hand under John's head, lifting his arm and wrapping it around his shoulders firmly. He carefully picked up John’s legs, pulled him into his chest and when he was sure he had a good grip on him, lifted him off the couch.

He cradled John tightly before moving away from the couch and towards the door as the doctor softly murmured in his sleep.

Getting up the stairs would have been a challenge that even Sherlock wasn't willing to attempt for fear of hurting John so instead he carried him to Sherlock’s room and carefully laid him on his bed. Then he gently removed John's socks, shoes and jumper before throwing the blanket over him. Sherlock was sure that John would be pretty pissed if he woke to his absence but wasn't entirely sure how he would react to him being under the covers with him, so instead he lay on top of the covers, arm wrapped protectively around John while they slept.

x..x

John awoke and was confused as to his surroundings until he realised that Sherlock had moved him, as promised. He felt a slight but reassuring pressure across his torso and when he turned over he found the source; Sherlock.

The doctor found himself staring at him as he'd rarely seen Sherlock sleep and to watch it was a beautiful sight. The mask was gone, muscles relaxed and a gentle, light snore escaping his lips.

John reached over and touched Sherlock's face gently, running his fingers over his defined cheekbones, across his nose; feeling a twitch under his fingertips, moving his fingers down the side of his nose and ran over his lips. Sherlock's arm moved from John's torso to the hand at his lips, gently caressing it before sparkling blue eyes fluttered open and looked at John.

Sherlock struggled for words before John quickly spoke, "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? I mean, your cheekbones, perfectly sculpted face, your nose, your lips ..."

John's fingers were still on Sherlock's lips so the younger man responded by linking their fingers together and staring at John for a moment.

"No." Sherlock looked sad at this revelation and John felt guilty for asking.

"Sorry."

"Don't be, John. Thank you." Sherlock replied, leaning over to give him a kiss that was quick but filled with fear and insecurity.

x..x

John's phone beeped and vibrated across the cluttered table as John realised he slightly regretted telling Sherlock he'd missed the mess.

"Sherlock, where's my phone? Sherlock!"

John shuffled frantically through the mess in an attempt to locate his phone.

"Sherlock."

"Yes, John?" Sherlock replied, finally coming into the room.

John looked up to see Sherlock wrapped in a towel around the waist, still dripping water from the shower. It wasn't unusual for Sherlock to walk around in just a towel fresh from the shower but now John could finally take in the sight without it being awkward.

"Sorry, I'm making you uncomfortable. I'll leave."

"No, I was just ... doesn't matter." John mumbled, blushing bright red and promptly going back to looking for his phone.

John was vaguely aware of Sherlock moving further into the room but refused to let his eyes follow him, that's why he nearly had a heart attack when he felt Sherlock's arms wrap around his waist.

"Sherlock, not the time. Please." John said softly, despite his heart rate being sky high.

Sherlock moved a hand from John's waist, resting it over a spot on the table before digging into the rubble of papers and plucking the older man's phone out.

It started to ring and vibrate in his hand so he quickly handed it to John. He kissed him on the temple before heading off to the bedroom.

"Sherlock, wait there."

"Excuse me?" Sherlock looked puzzled but stopped where he was.

"Hi, Lestrade. Actually I'm not feeling too good. Food poisoning. That Chinese down the road. Yeah, the new one. Sorry. I'll be fine, thanks. Bye."

"Did you just back out if a case?"

"Yes. Now, move."

"Excuse me?" Sherlock asked again, making no attempt to move.

John gave him a cheeky smile.

"Right." Sherlock grinned in return, spinning on his heels and heading to the bedroom.

x..x

"Finally awake?" Sherlock smiled at John as his eyes fluttered open.

John just smiled in response, snuggling into Sherlock's chest and wrapping his arms around him.

"Enjoying a break from the cases? Not impressed, John." Sherlock commented, winking at him in the same way he had when they first met.

"I had enough while you were away."

"You're bored of solving cases?"

"The annoying dick watching over me disappeared and for some reason I missed him."

Sherlock smiled. "I suppose Lestrade can manage for one day."

x..x

"Morning, boys." Mrs Hudson smiled as they entered the living room, placing the two cups of tea onto the table.

John spotted the brews and walked over to Mrs Hudson, kissing her cheek and replying with a thank you.

"How are you two then?" Mrs Hudson smiled still, trying to hide a blush.

"Very well, thank you, Mrs Hudson." Sherlock replied, softly pecking John's cheek.

It was John's turn to blush, so he spun on his heels and headed to the couch, snatching up his brew as he passed. Just as he got to the couch, he realised something that Sherlock had failed to realise.

"Mrs Hudson, haven't you forgotten something?"

Sherlock looked at John puzzled before looking back at Mrs Hudson, realisation dawning on him.

"What's the matter, boys?"

John pointed a finger at Sherlock as he spoke, “Sherlock's back."

"Oh, I know, dear. I may be old but I'm not senile yet, John." Mrs Hudson smiled affectionately.

"You're not old, Mrs Hudson." John smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, dear. Now, I'm going to do some other housework. Now, behave, boys." Mrs Hudson winked uncharacteristically at them as she left the room.


	4. Long Time Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When living in the world of Sherlock Holmes, usual things are easy to accept.  
> The boys take the case that Lestrade offered and Greg finally discovers Sherlock's alive but is more confused at Sherlock's tameness, much to the annoyance of Sherlock.  
> And as usual, Sherlock solves the crime as easy as if he'd never left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so last chapter. Hope you've enjoyed it. As I said, this is the romantic version of Sherlock's return. Or in other words, the version that will never happen. But at least it's possible in the world of fanfiction ;) xxxx

"Unbelievable." John said, utterly confused.

"I think she's getting used to strange things." Sherlock replied, squeezing his shoulder as he passed by to grab his drink.

"True. So …"

"So?"

"What are we doing today?"

"Well, hopefully Lestrade will have a case for us."

"What if he doesn't?"

"We'll just have to wait and see then." Sherlock quirked an eyebrow and grinned a little.

John smiled back as Sherlock picked up the newspaper and settled into the couch.

John walked over to the desk and seated himself, pulling out his laptop.

"What could you possibly be blogging about?"

"I'm not. I'm checking my emails."

"Oh." Sherlock replied curiously, lowering the paper to look at John.

"Yes, Sherlock, I do have a life, outside of blogging our cases and your subtle arrogance." John replied, avoiding Sherlock's eye to prevent a smirk.

Sherlock placed the paper down and walked over to John.

"Anything interesting then?" Sherlock asked, an arm leaning over his right side to prevent escape.

John looked up at the detective, his heart racing at the closeness of him. Sherlock moved his hand from the desk to John's wrist, placing his left on his chair to brace himself.

"Sherlock, you know what you do to me so stop checking my pulse."

Sherlock was slightly surprised at John's honesty so he moved his hand to rest it on the doctors wrist instead, kissing his forehead softly.

John shifted his hand slightly to hold Sherlock's lightly until the younger man moved to kiss him softly and slowly. John's hand moved to cup Sherlock's face, fingers running along his cheekbone as Sherlock's hand moved to gently fist the older man's jumper.

The kiss was lazy and short but left both men breathless.

"You always went for the jumper, even before you ran away." John smiled.

"I can't help it. I’ve always wanted to pull you into my arms." Sherlock smiled back, pecking John on the lips.

"I know. At least it’s better than the hair pulling." John smirked.

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow suggestively.

"No, Sherlock."

"John …"

"What if we get a case?"

"But John …"

Just then John's phone buzzed and he quickly snatched it up, earning a glare from Sherlock. 

"Hey, Lestrade."

_"Hey, we've got a body, are you gonna cone check it out?_

"Sure, we'll be right there." John replied, smiling slightly at Sherlock.

Sherlock's face lit up.

"Good, um ... See ya soon then."

x..x

"Sherlock." Lestrade spluttered upon seeing the consulting detective, alive.

"Greg." Sherlock replied with a soft smile.

"What's happened to him?" Lestrade whispered to John.

"I've no idea."

And for once, John didn't actually know what had happened to make Sherlock ... human.

"I'm surprised, Lestrade. The first question you ask is why I have changed." The detective replied with a smile.

"So?"

"I was expecting you to be surprised I'm alive, given that you went to my funeral."

"Sherlock! You were there?!"

"John, not at a crime scene."

"Of course, we wouldn't want to disturb the dead guy lying in the dirt."

Lestrade managed to suppress a giggle. Sherlock, being Sherlock, smirked at John, causing him to smile back.

This was Sherlock, causing John to smile at inappropriate moments, and the doctor had to admit he’d actually missed these moments.

"Some things never bloody change." Lestrade rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Always the drama queen, Lestrade." Sherlock teased with a smile.

"Yes well, what have you got, Sherlock."

"Too easy, Lestrade. He was having an affair and his wife found out. Stabbed him to death in rage then her guilt took over and she dumped him here."

"How I've missed this."

Sherlock didn't miss the sarcasm in Lestrade's voice but smiled and replied, "Why thank you, Inspector."

John rolled his eyes and made a noise of exasperation.

Sherlock smirked and sauntered passed the officers in his usual manner.

"You must be a saint to put up with him, he must be a bloody bugger to live with." Lestrade whispered to John just as Sherlock called his name.

"Yes, he is. Well, best be off."

"Good luck, John." Lestrade called after the doctor.

"Bye, Greg." John replied with a smile.

x..x

"What did Lestrade whisper to you?"

"Nothing to do with you, Sherlock."

"John ..."

"Let it go, Sherlock."

Sherlock sighed uncharacteristically and flicked his coat collar up. John rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Something the matter, John?"

"Just the coat collar and cheekbones again."

"Don't you find it the least bit attractive, John?"

John blushed in response, trying to think of an appropriate come back.

"So that's a yes then."

"Shut up."

x..x

"Come sit with me, John." Sherlock whined from the couch.

"Sherlock, you're lying on the couch, there's no space."

"I'll make some."

"Then I'll sit with you when you move."

Sherlock jumped up into a sitting position, patting the spot next to him. John placed the newspaper down and walked over to the couch. He fell into the couch and relaxed dramatically, resting a hand on Sherlock's left shoulder.

The younger man looked over at John, smiling before laying his head in his lap and curling up. John opened his eyes, seeing the mess of curls and the side of Sherlock's face in his lap.

Sherlock's left arm was curled under his body and his right across John's leg; his hand on his knee. John smiled and brushed the younger man's hair softly and tenderly.

"John, I'm rather tired."

"Do you want to move?"

"Yes, I'd rather sleep in my own bed."

"Well, I'll see you in the morning then."

"John, I want you to sleep with me."

"Oh, well, okay then."

x..x

"I hope this isn't uncomfortable for you, John."

"Of course it’s not, Sherlock."

"Good." Sherlock replied, resting his head on John's chest to listen to his heartbeat.

John began to stroke Sherlock's hair again, earning a content purr from the younger man. John smiled and continued to stare at the younger man, until Sherlock looked up at the doctor, giving him a warm smile.

"You really are handsome, Sherlock. Those beautiful cheekbones, the shape of your face and this mess of curls, you're just so handsome."

Sherlock blushed and gave a shy smile.

"John, you're very handsome as well. I mean, your muscular build, your shortness that makes me look taller ..." Sherlock gave a sly smile.

"Thanks, I appreciate that." John replied sarcastically, despite smiling affectionately.

"Your eyes as well, and your smile when you know you're not supposed to. Everything about you, John. I've never really had a ... relationship before or even a friendship, and now I've got both." Sherlock finished, laying his head back on John's chest and watching him.

John smiled softly, stroking Sherlock's face. The two lay there in silence for a long moment before Sherlock leaned up and kissed John softly.  John kissed Sherlock back, his hand gripping his hair gently. Sherlock deepened the kiss causing them both to moan softly.

"Sherlock, I thought you were tired."

"I am, I just wanted to kiss you again."

"I enjoy kissing you too, in fact, I wish we hadn't waited so long." John gave a sad smile but let the thought pass.

"We should talk more in the morning, John."

"We don't really talk much, do we?"

Sherlock thought for a moment, "I believe you're right, John."

"I _know_ I'm right." John said gently.

"Well, right now, it’s time to sleep. Goodnight, John."

"Goodnight, Sherlock."

Sherlock curled up into John's side, arm thrown protectively over the older man’s chest and his feet snuggled tightly against those of the doctor's. John gripped Sherlock tightly and protectively, listening to his breathing shallow into a state of sleep.

He didn't much believe in God but he thanked whatever mighty being that brought Sherlock home and put him in the arms of the doctor. John lay awake most of the night just holding Sherlock, glad to finally have him in his arms and at peace.

Eventually the doctor drifted off into a peaceful sleep, his grip on Sherlock loosening only slightly.

Sherlock opened his eyes and kissed John sweetly on the lips.

"I'm glad I'm here with you." He said, before resting his head back into John's chest.


End file.
